


TDP Holiday Present for @moonshadowmemes: 3 Pairings, 2 Weeks, 1 Story

by The_North_Star



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Will put more tags later, and i do love me my holiday prompts, and i wanted to do all three requested pairings since i knew it'd only be one chapter, i am so very tired so forgive the many errors and lack of tags, i was requested something soft so here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22102576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_North_Star/pseuds/The_North_Star
Summary: {The smile he receives, and the arm sliding through his own, outshines any light the cold afternoon gives through the windows.}{All the way Amaya keeps one arm around Janai, her teal cloak shielding them both from the cold.}{He strokes down her arms comfortingly when she draws her robe closer around her body. And not just to ward off the cold.}A Crow and a Crow Master.  A human and an elf. A general and her right-hand man.  All bundling up, sharing sweets, and tucking in as winter comes.3 Pairings, 2 Weeks of completion, 1 story.  Technically 3 stories, but this is late so I hope one story per ship makes up for it.
Relationships: Amaya/Gren (The Dragon Prince), Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince), Corvus/Crow Master
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	TDP Holiday Present for @moonshadowmemes: 3 Pairings, 2 Weeks, 1 Story

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I apologize profusely that this did not come out before Christmas like I wanted it to. Christmas this year was busy, and with finals and work piled up on me my brain had been so mushy that sleep was necessary for my health over finishing this.
> 
> But here we are. Happy Holidays, @moonshadowmemes, I really hope your Christmas was relaxing and/or good and that you like this. You had 3 pairings and I know you would've have perfectly okay with one story, but I also like to complicate my life and this was late anyway so I figured why not throw in a little more.
> 
> The gift that gives thrice, and we all know 3 is an excellent number! *looks at the not-dragon main protagonists of TDP*
> 
> A few notes before we start:
> 
> -With the stories featuring Amaya, as I have done in all my fics with her, her signing (and Gren signing to her) will be indicated with parentheses.
> 
> -Janai & Khessa (RIP) are still raqs sharqui practioners, better known as belly dancers, per my own personal HC.
> 
> -I based the Janaya story off of actual climate patterns in Africa, which I draw heavily for inspiration for the Sunfire elves. Most of it was based off the snow on the Atlas mountains in North Africa (hence the heavy Arabic influence), although there is also snowfall on Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, and glaciers on the Rwenzori Mountains, on the border of Uganda, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
> 
> -I based the 3 stories off of spices because spiced things are aplenty during the holidays and I love my spices, so yeah :3
> 
> So, here we go. Happy Holidays, @moonshadowmemes and all The Dragon Prince fans!

GINGER

"What, exactly, has your attention up there?" 

Corvus finds Crow Master buried in an almost-fluffy overcoat, straddling a ceiling beam, staring at a random hidden corner beneath a window. 

Crow Master excitedly turns at him from his perch. "Babies, Corvus! Babies! Five of them, which is a good omen, I think." 

Corvus savors the warmth at the bottom of the basket, nestling a freshly-made batch of ginger cookies and a pot of milky tea. He makes his way to where Crow Master is enthralled with the baby birds he can now hear. 

"They're Ramades' and Aida's babies. Aida is here, feeding them---babies, please be patient, it'll be worth it, promise----" 

Corvus smiles. “Is there room up there for another crow-sitter?” 

Crow Master returns his smile. “You’re basically a crow, of course there’s room for you up here. What’s in the basket?” 

“You’ll see”, he replies casually, putting the handle of the basket between his teeth and unraveling his chain. Crow Master used to worry every time he’d use the grappling hook on the end to climb things, but the ceiling is hardly high, and they’ve gradually stopped worrying as the years passed. 

They do hold a hand out to him, and he takes it while steadying himself on an adjacent beam. 

He plants the basket on the shelf, on the farthest end opposite of the nest. Has it been that long since he's been in the Tower, that long since he threw shiny things at the crows for them to catch? Has it been that long since he’s seen crow chicks….that long since he’s simply sat with Crow Master and shared sweets and quiet conversation with them? 

The baby crows not being fed cheep loudly at Aida, a ‘short’ and stout lady crow missing a toe on her left foot. Birds normally had their babies around summer, but crows are notorious for barely following the supposed rules of birds. 

He chances a look at Crow Master, his soft face and oak-colored skin alight with wonder as he carefully insulates the nest by building a box of sorts around, using a square of wood, metal brands, and scraps of wool fabric. A nest around the nest. 

“I smell ginger. You wouldn’t happen to have something gingery on your person, master tracker?” 

Without answering, Corvus reaches over to the basket and uncovers it, letting the steam curl into the foggy, faint light of mid-afternoon. He takes two stoneware cups and gives one to Crow Master, then lifts the pot and pours some tea into their cup. 

“How are you not close to falling off at all? My thighs are gripping for dear life here, and here you are as easy as Aida, building her nest at a height that would be a nasty fall for her, and definitely for her babies.” 

Corvus hides his blush at the thought of Crow Master’s thighs under a smirk as he takes a few ginger cookies in a square of fabric Sand lays it on the beam in front of them. 

“You said it yourself, little bird, I’m basically a crow. Have some faith in yourself. Also, c’mon, take a break, have some sweet, I know you’ve been working serious overtime for Winter Solstice.” 

“Better safe than sorry.” Despite their initial burst of acrophobia, Crow Master gladly wolfs down an entire cookie and washes it down with a healthy dose of tea. 

“I love your cookies. And your tea. And your everything.” 

A choked snicker. “My everything?” When Crow Master gives him an embarrassed glance through wide open, deep honey eyes, Corvus runs his hand through his hair and gives them his best attempt at a smolder. 

It works, apparently, because Crow Master spits out their tea with a slightly distressed noise. They’re facing away from the birds so none of it splatters on mama or babies, but Aida suddenly looks at them with concern. 

Corvus is quick to fetch a napkin and offers it with a wince. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to cause that.” 

“What did you mean to cause?” Crow Master isn’t angry or upset in any way, just surprised, taking the napkin and wiping up. 

“I’m honestly not sure, just…that was on me. I just found it funny. ‘And your everything.’ I mean, everything I do I put my all into it. Tracking, baking…” 

“Existing”, Crow Master supplies. “Well, I appreciate it. I’m sure lots of other people appreciate your everything. I’m glad for you, even if you’re not baking. I’m glad just to spend time with you.” 

“I appreciate your ‘everything’, too”, Corvus gently responds, letting his genuine and easy smile grow wider when a blush does appear on Crow Master’s somewhat lighter skin. 

Crow Master clears their throat. “Er....should we continue on the ground, maybe? Leave mama bird here with her family to enjoy Solstice together? I’ll take the ladder down first then I’ll move it over to you, then---Corvus buddy no! Corvus!” 

He has already secured the grappling hook to the beam and had begun his descent down the chain, basket somehow secured in his mouth. Corvus stops and, hanging off with one hand, frees the basket handle from his mouth with the other. 

“Yes, dear?” 

Crow Master shakes his head bemusedly. “Wha---how did you---” 

“I work fast.” 

“Yeah, I can see that. But why---” 

“---So you can have the ladder. All yours.” 

“......I didn’t mind sharing it. Since you’re doing all the sharing right now, with me.” 

Corvus shoots him yet another charming smile. “I don’t mind sharing either. Not adding up, or docking, any points for anything here.” 

“Still. I have a good fire going near my work desk, and a blanket for you if you have the time.” 

Corvus watches them bid Aida and her babies good bye, silver rings glinting on wiggling fingers, then watches them take the stoneware cup, stick it into a pocket in their coat.  
He’s already on the ground, loosening the grappling hook from the beam, as Crow Master carefully wriggles their way onto the ladder to get down, and he thinks about cute they look, nervously whistling the whole while. 

When Crow Master gets to floor level, Corvus holds his arm out to them. 

“So...I have cookies and tea, you have blankets and heat. Shall we?” 

The smile he receives, and the arm sliding through his own, outshines any light the cold afternoon gives through the windows. 

“Yes, Crow Lord, we shall.” 

END 

CINNAMON: 

It snows in Lux Aurea. 

"Ironic for Sunfire territory, and Sunfires in general, but yes, we experience snow." 

(HOW?) 

Janai shrugs beside Amaya, wrapped in a resplendent cloak of three layers of a thick red fabric and gold embroidery, gold tassels regally swaying with every step she takes. Kazi is a step ahead of them, covered in a similarly thick cloak, but their cloak decorated with colorful stripes and wooden beads, fringe along the end of their cloak instead of tassels.

"Water is turned to vapor, and the vapor floats to the sky and forms into clouds. When the weather is cold enough and enough vapor collects in the clouds, the vapor is turned into snow, and the snow is heavy enough that it falls by itself, but light enough that it doesn't fall on our heads and kill us all. I don't know how it works for human lands---" 

(It's the exact same, except the snow forms and falls only in places already cold enough through all seasons.) 

"Then you know how cold it can be. And you don't have a means of keeping warm." 

(I can manage; my clothing is nice and warm enough) 

"Not for snow up to your knees." Stopping Kazi with a hand to their shoulder as they've been strolling, Janai then holds one arm out to her, cloak draped over it. The inner layer of the cloak is even more decorated than the outer layer, her deep skin rich and glowing against the pale gold and ivory satiny-looking fabric. 

"Stop staring, you silly human, I'm sharing my cloak with you." 

Amaya knows her lighter skin will betray the heat in her cheeks. 

(Why?) 

"It's cold, you foolish human, just come here before you chill to death. I don't want to explain that to your nephew, the KING. Or your other nephew, the HUMAN MAGE." 

Amaya smirks, which causes Janai to groan, quickly reach over to grab her, and throw one end of her cloak over their shoulders.

“This is only until we can get you a proper cloak of your own”

(I’m flattered, your Princess-li-ness.)

When Kazi translates she rolls her eyes and continues to lead them both through the marketplace, the light cover of snow on the ground already dappled with footprints.  
The marketplace isn’t very large due to fairly recent events and many merchants and citizens of Lux Aurea still recovering, still rebuilding, but everyone and everything is alive with hope and the stubborn will to live.

Janai appears to heavily sigh with relief when Kazi points out a large tent with various articles of outerwear for wares. Inside is a nice selection of garments like boots, overcoats, gloves, hoods, capes, sweaters, trousers, and cloaks, all for braving harsher elements.

Amaya lets the two Sunfire elves lead her through, thoroughly enjoying them holding up various articles of clothing up to her person and making comments like ‘She’s too pale for this shade of red’ and ‘I don’t want this one human looking like a marshmallow, no matter how much I like them’. 

And then she sees it.

It’s nothing like the fur-lined cloaks of Katolis. The cloak is a thick weave of woolen teal fibers lined with what feels like silk and many, many pockets. Tassels alternating in teal and yellow-gold adorn the edges and in two rows along the bottom of the cloak. Patterned in between the dark blue stitching is golden embroidery of what looks like citrus fruit and wedges. 

Tangerines and oranges and lemons, all winter fruits in her hometown. She is suddenly nostalgic for the sweet blood oranges that she and Sarai would get after the first fruits of all winter harvests were offered to the spirits in gratitude, and for help in surviving the winter. The fruits helped in keeping away colds and other wintertime illnesses. 

She gently but repeatedly taps Janai along her arm, showing the two elves the teal cloak.

(I’ll pay you back for this, warrior’s honor.)

Janai eyes the cloak with approval.

(No need.)

While Janai negotiates with the merchants, Amaya decides to explore a little further, allowing herself to be lead by the smell of something good.  
To the left, down a whole row of stalls on both sides, parchment-colored tents dotted with snow and juxtaposed against their interiors ablaze with color. 

A stark contrast to the general mood only a few weeks ago, in the aftermath of the Battle of the Storm Spire. 

This marketplace bustles within four once-proud walls, now crumbled after the destruction of Lux Aurea. One wall is completely destroyed, and a pathway for all the merchants to bring in their wares, by vast carriages and beasts of burden, has been made in the rubble. 

She doesn’t want to think about that fateful day right now, and allows the smell of spices to distract her.  
Another spacious, warm tent for what looks like foodstuffs fitting the colder weather, like tea and bread, also boast spices and herbs that look....surprisingly ordinary. 

Familiar. 

She can distinguish several just by appearance: saffron pistils, turmeric and ginger roots, cardamom pods, cinnamon bark rolled up like scrolls. 

But this is elf territory, and some spices and herbs look absolutely strange: baskets filled with what looks like tiny purple flower buds, bright pink pearls the size and shape of peppercorns, sesame seed-looking things but a rich red instead of light brown. 

And, most interestingly, dried pods in the shape of a five-point star. 

A tap to the side of her arm that usually indicates someone wants her attention comes from Janai, and when Amaya turns to fully look at her, she has that lovely teal blue cloak thrown over her shoulders. 

(Thank you), she signs to Janai when she secures the cloak close to her collarbones. 

Janai understands this, at least. “Don’t worry about about payment; if you wish to return my kindness, don’t die. At least, not from frostbite.” 

Amaya gives a little smirk as Janai responds with a resigned look, then glances over her shoulder to the spices and herbs she’d been studying earlier.  
“Are you hungry? I admit the spices here make me think of curry, which sounds delicious right now. Kazi?"

"I am alright, Your Highness", Kazi replies, and Amaya sees Janai visibly swallow a groan.

"The royal titles...will take some getting used to."

(Curry? With rice? You all have that here?)

Both Sunfire elves tilt their heads at her.

"You know what curry is?"

Amaya looks at them with pride.

(Of course I know the deliciousness that is curry. Our curry is a lot of spices and scallions with meat, and sometimes cooked in milk from plants like almonds and coconuts. My personal favorite is a red curry with a lot of heat and warm flatbread on the side.)

Kazi translates, tripping up briefly over 'scallions', but Amaya manages to explain the appearance of the thin green allium, and Kazi tells her that those are just called 'green onions'. And that, it seems, mostly Skywing elves cooked with those.

"I prefer my yellow curry, heavy with cassia and asterspice."

(Ca-see-a? As-ter-spice?)

Janai raises an eyebrow, and beckons Amaya to follow her into the spice tent. 

The elves working within---three, feminine in appearance, one tall and lean, two shorter and stronger---gasp, alternating between quickly bowing to Janai and giving her wide-eyed stares.  
Kazi gently motions and tells them to ease up, looks in her direction then looks back at them with a nod, presumably to assure them she wasn't a threat.

One of the shorter elves, pretty gold eyes and mahogany skin veiled with an elaborate and beautiful patterned headscarf, steps forward to bow gracefully to Janai. The long ‘sleeves’ of their shawl make them look like a noblelady.

"How may we help Her Majesty and her entourage?"

At this, she stares unblinkingly at the merchant, and when a few seconds stretch to longer than that Kazi gently reaches forward and brushes her shoulder. Janai snaps out of her reverie and nods.

"My apologies. My entourage and I were passing through this marketplace for winter supplies. We became distracted by the spices, most likely when I asked if either of them were hungry."

The veiled elf tells the other shorter elf to fetch something, and this elf---dark hair like Kazi's and styled similarly, but edged with gold instead of red and held back with a bunch of braided headbands---comes back with a basket. They lift the towel on the basket, releasing steam and the smell of....

"Freshly-made cassia rolls, butter and honey and plenty of cassia."

(Cinnamon rolls?)

Despite the odd pink color of the pastries Amaya almost wants to cry with joy. Cinnamon rolls in Lux Aurea is an odd but pleasant surprise. Or cassia rolls, but the smell of them is reminiscent of the rolled treat Barius would make when he’d send some pastries to the Breach alongside resources like rations and medicine.

She gives Kazi a glance.

(Ca-see-a? Is that a spice derived from bark that looks like a scroll?) At their surprised nod, she breathes a sigh of slight relief. 

(Oh, so it is cinnamon. Cassia is just the elf name for cinnamon. Then I could safely eat these rolls. I could safely eat ten rolls. But I’ll stick with one for now.)

Amaya reaches forward for a roll, and although the elf gives her another indecipherable look they don’t pull the basket away. She offers a small smile in gratitude and decides to put one in her mouth, then takes another two for her Sunfire friends and holds it out to them.

Kazi is looking between the three merchant elves and the entryway into the tent, befuddled. 

Janai isn’t there.

(She just left, just now. I don’t know why.)

Amaya has a pretty good idea. 

Placing a roll into Kazi’s hands and quickly wolfing down the rest of her roll, she strides out of the tent, seeing what appears to be the end of a thick red cloak disappearing behind an adjacent tent. Quickly noting the footprints left in the light cover of snow, she intercepts Janai, bracing one hand at her sternum.

(You alright? What happened?)

Expecting Janai to try and storm off in a different direction, the Sunfire elf instead breathes deeply and presses the heel of her hand into one eye.

“The merchant elf called me ‘Her Majesty’. It’s only been mere weeks. I haven’t even been crowned, and people are already bowing to me and referring to me as a Queen. I have been trained for this role, I know what to do…just….it is a lot for such a short period of time. I figured I’d be used to it by now. 

But I smelled the cassia and asterspice and saw their pretty tapestries draped across the ceiling, and that one tall, lean elf has my sister’s hair, and when I saw the cassia rolls with the honey trails it all made me think of times I’d sneak off to dance lessons with Khessa. Even though our parents hated it. 

We had dancers and danced with them at her coronation, and we had food, including a whole basket of rolls, secreted away for us before the ceremony, because without it we wouldn’t have eaten until many hours later. Too many memories are wrapped up in food and tastes and smells. And they’re all I have left of her now.”

Amaya immediately embraces her, tiptoeing for height and stretching her head back so Janai’s head can fit under her chin. After a second, she drapes one end of her fancy cloak over her shoulders.  
They stay like that for what feels like hours although it probably had only been a few minutes, until the elf reluctantly pulls halfway out of her embrace. Amaya offers up the cassia roll between their very close faces, and Janai’s face melts into a sort of relief, taking it as she signs to her.

“Eat, you, feel, small….good? Or….eat, you, feel, little…better? ‘Eat, you’ll feel a little better?’”

Amaya smiles and nods in affirmation, and for the first time today Janai truly smiles.

“I already feel a little better. Thank you, Amaya.”

She gives another nod, gently leading Janai back to the spice tent. They need to get Kazi, and a few more rolls, and perhaps actually buy some spices to make up for the tiny bit of trouble to the merchants. She knew she definitely wanted to learn what those star-shaped clusters of pods are.

All the way Amaya keeps one arm around Janai, her teal cloak shielding them both from the cold.

END

NUTMEG (GREN/AMAYA) 

Gren feels a surge of satisfaction as the nutmeg, muddled with honey, cinnamon, and ginger, seep their flavor into the hot cocoa he pours into the teapot. He truthfully needs only a minute or two, then the cocoa can be served. 

And the cocoa served with the warm fig pudding and oatmeal raisin cookies Corvus baked and brought in should lift Amaya's spirits. 

He knows that Amaya wouldn't be angry at him in any way, but it always feels just a little intrusive to know so much about her pain, see all that's befallen her in the last few weeks especially, and be rather useless in actually helping her. 

All he can do are little things here and there; some words here, an hour of hugs there, make her laugh enough to clutch her side....little things. 

Like slapping a bandage on a deep cut. 

The pot of cocoa comes off the fire and on a dry folded towel nearby to cool a bit.

Gren feels deep in his heart, he cannot do the big things, like stop the tears from flowing, or bring her sleep on restless nights, or bring back her sister or King Harrow.  
He couldn't keep her from getting captured by the Sunfire elves or having to face the fire trial to preserve her life; Knight Janai took his place there. And he couldn't keep her from getting herself burned, or keep her from the Battle of the Storm Spire, or nearly getting splattered against a rock face; Soren had taken his place there. 

But! No self-deprecation. Not today! It is the Winter Solstice and Amaya's in the main room of the Banther Lodge laying out blankets for the both of them to spend the late afternoon together. In a few hours her nephews will be here, but this time is theirs. 

Something moves in his peripheral, and he moves his head just in time for Amaya to prod a slice of fig pudding against his mouth in jest, like a child trying to feed a doll.

(Here, Commander, eat, or it'll get cold. Corvus baked brandy into this pudding, and I want to drink a little brandy to accompany it before the boys get here.)

He smiles. (General, may I remind you they won't be here for a few hours. Even with their snazzy new magical mounts. And I have spiced cocoa! With the finest nutmeg freshly ground, of course.)

Her eyes light up, dark brown riverstones above the sand color of her scarf. (Yes, I love my spices! And you know what else would be good with the cocoa? Whisky.)

His hand rests upon her shoulder. This weekend in the Banther Lodge was specifically so Amaya could heal from her injuries at the Battle of the Storm Spire. It was only two weeks ago or so, but it feels like a lifetime. 

(General.)

(.....fine. Gimme the cocoa, please. The fireplace and bedpans haven't warmed the main parlor yet, and I need a break and that warm liquid goodness.)

(One mug of liquid goodness coming right up!) 

Gren takes two mugs, pouring cocoa into them, then takes them to where Amaya is reclined on a loveseat covered with cushions and a fluffy quilt, somehow making eating cookies in two bites each look regal and simple at the same time.

(There you are! With cocoa. I can smell it already, thank you Gren.)

It’s probably her choice of attire, a teal, simple, and warm long-sleeved robe, and billowy dark brown pants bunched around deep red silk slippers that look embossed with swirls. 

Mugs clinking together, she blows then takes a quick sip. 

(Just as I thought. Liquid goodness. Thanks again, Gren.)

(No problem. How are your hands?)

She wears dark brown gloves that cover the bandaged wounds underneath. On top of the shelf over the fireplace is a large jar with herbal salve for her burns, with a small box of clean gauze to wrap them up. 

She pauses for a bit, staring into the fire. 

(My hands are alright, see?) A flexing of fingers without a grimace of pain soothes him somewhat, and she did set up all the cushions and blankets strewn along the furniture, in anticipation of her nephews that may want to make blanket forts or just set their beds close to their aunt near the fireplace.

And yet, he senses something is wrong. And he is usually right. But there are always exceptions.

Like Viren. And elves, in general.

He lifts his mug to his mouth and sips just as Amaya reaches for either the pudding or cookies on the little table before them.

And sees it.

Amaya is straining her arm to reach, as though her upper arm was connected to her body by a short chain. She's quite healthy and athletic and wouldn't normally have even a bit of trouble reaching for food.

Just as she gets her hand on the pudding he takes the same hand, placing down his cocoa and gently pushing her back onto the chair with his other hand. 

(You're still hurt. I mean, you're still healing, remember?)

(Not anymore, I'm fine. Suffered worse at the Breach. Remember?)

(One and a half weeks is not enough to recover from being plucked and tossed by a lava rock monster like a doll. Or from nearly being blinded permanently, or actually getting burned. You're covered in bruises. Still!)

She gives him a look, one so tired and resigned and bordering on tearing up from pain or fatigue.

(Gren, please. There's been....a lot these past few weeks, and I want just a normal Winter Solstice Feast Day with my nephews and you. One where I could get wood for the fire and start it, and throw blankets everywhere, and stuff cookies in my mouth, and wash it down with brandy, and actually carry the boys. All of that.  
You're my Voice, yes, which means you're not a servant. I don't want anyone waiting on me hand and foot, especially you.)

He grasps both her shoulders and gives a soft squeeze, blue eyes meeting brown.

(You're right. I'm not a servant. I am your friend, and I do it because I care. I'm not waiting on you, I'm helping you. Like when I take your helmet or bring a horse to you, or like now when I brought you cocoa. I'm helping you.)

He strokes down her arms comfortingly when she draws her robe closer around her body. And not just to ward off the cold.

(Please, let me help you. It'll be like any other Holiday, and you can still inhale all of Corvus' treats two bites each, and help the boys build a blanket fort, and after they knock out we can maybe slip some brandy in this liquid goodness.  
All I'll do is just push the pudding closer to you, and hold up a blanket, and I'll do the pouring of whatever brown liquor you can find. Because I want you to heal and also enjoy this Holiday. Because I care about you. And because that's what friends do for each other.)

He barely registers her plunking her mug down before she envelopes him in a deep hug, burying her head under his chin. He naturally doesn't resist, instead pulling her closer. They stay wrapped around each other for what feels like a year but is probably just a few heartbeats.

He lets go of her after some time just to pick up a blanket to wrap around the both of them, and Amaya clings to him as he feels around for it. 

They stay like that, embraced and signing occasionally. At some point Gren gets up and obtains the salve from the fireplace ledge, applying it to not just her hands but also her shoulders, down her arms, down her back. Placing gauze upon everything, he helps her to get completely dressed again, finding the blanket and tucking it around her, and coaxes her into laying in his arms and resting her eyes for a bit.

(I'll wake you when the boys get here.)

She complies with the unspoken request to rest, and he keeps one cheek pressed to the crown of her head for the next few hours. 

Two now-empty mugs, strong with the scent of nutmeg, cools on the table.

END


End file.
